


Falling Skies

by tattooeddevil



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 12:57:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1689125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooeddevil/pseuds/tattooeddevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve softly knocked before opening the door to the examination room a little. "Bucky? Can I come in?"</p><p>"Yeah, come on in."</p><p>Steve pushed the door open fully before freezing in his stride when he caught sight of Bucky. Bucky's back was to him, he was shirtless, and the wings were fully extended, draped over chairs and tables like a magnificent blanket of deep brown velvet. He was gorgeous.</p><p>And Steve just thought of his best friend as being gorgeous.</p><p>Shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Skies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tigriswolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/gifts).



> Written for tigriswolf for comment-fic at LJ, for the prompt "Avengers movieverse, Steve/Bucky, being tortured by Hydra wasn’t enough to wake up Bucky Barnes’ latent mutation; falling off a train was (or, Bucky’s wings explode out his back, but that doesn’t really mean he knows how to fly yet)"
> 
> Set right after Bucky's fall from the train. Tiny, tiny spoiler for CA:TWS right at the very end.

"Now or never, Captain! Let's see exactly how crazy you are."

Steve glared at Stark from his perch in the open door of the plane. "I know what I saw, mister Stark! Bucky didn't fall, he flew."

Stark shook his head, disbelief obvious on his face, but Steve ignored it. He knew what he saw. The rail had broken off the train, Bucky had fallen with a scream, and then he had flown. How, Steve wasn't sure, but he had seen the wings and he knew Bucky had survived.

Now all they had to do was find him. Stark had taken some convincing to take him up and fly around the alps in search of Bucky, but Steve could make a compelling argument every now and then. It helped that Stark was actually, deep down, extremely curious about everything scientific and Steve knew how to tap into that.

He knew where Bucky had gone down, but they'd flown by the spot a few times now and had seen nothing. The storm had let up, thankfully, but the mountains were covered in feet of new snow that blinded his eyes and made it difficult to see anything but snow and more snow.

And then he saw it. A quick flash of brown against the white of the ground below them. He yelled out to Stark, made him lower the plane and fly over the spot again, and he saw it again. A flash of brown, a few feet wide, like a flag or a sheet flapping in the wind.

Bucky's wings.

When he had fallen, Bucky had screamed. Steve could still hear it echo in his ears. But then Bucky's face had changed from panic to pain and then to shock, and somehow - _somehow_ \- wings had appeared at his back. They spread like an eagle, disturbing the air around the falling man, and sent Bucky in a tailspin downwards. Steve had lost sight of him then, lost in the storm and the snow, but he knew Bucky had made it.

He had to have made it.

So yes, maybe he wasn't so sure about Bucky actually flying as he'd told Stark, but he couldn't let go of that spark of hope that had settled in his head and heart when he realized the wings might have actually saved Bucky. He had to find out.

"Now, Captain, go!"

Stark's yell pulled him from his musings and Steve focused on the ground below and the mountains around them. The brown flash was still there, coming in and out of view every few seconds, like Bucky was trying to take off, and Steve couldn't control the urge to jump out of the plane and find out any longer. He pushed off with a strong jump and let himself nosedive towards the brown flashes.

His heart jittered in his chest as he made his way down, the cold air whooshing around him doing nothing to cool his anticipation and hope. He kept his eyes trained on the brown flashes as they grew larger and larger, until he could finally make out what they were.

Wings.

He was almost unwilling to pull his parachute, not wanting to slow down his descent towards Bucky, but he knew his shield wouldn't be enough to break this fall. Not from this height. When he thought he was close enough, he called out. "Bucky! Buck, look up!"

The wings didn't stop moving to look up at the sky, no matter how loudly Steve yelled. The closer he got, the better his view of the wings got, and he realized things might not be as fortunate as he had hoped.

The brown flashes hadn't been Bucky trying to take off with his wings, it was one of his wings flapping uselessly in the wind as Bucky hunkered under the other like a blanket. Steve couldn't see if Bucky was hurt or even alive, and the last few feet down were excruciatingly slow. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he wrestled out of the parachute harness and raced to Bucky. "Buck! Bucky, oh my god!"

Steve slid to his knees in front of Bucky, frantically touching every bit of him he could, checking for injuries and cuts. And a pulse. "Bucky? Can you hear me? Please be alive, please be alive, please be alive..."

"Steve?"

Steve let out a huge breath of relief when he heard his name fall from Bucky's lips. He nearly collapsed in happy tears, but he managed to not break down yet and keep it to a strong hug. "Bucky, oh my god. I thought you were dead."

"Fooled you twice, Captain."

A harsh sob tore its way from Steve's throat. "Don't joke. Please don't joke. Are you okay?"

Steve pulled back so he could look at Bucky. His face was almost as white as the snow, but his eyes were sharp. "As okay as I can be after falling from a train and wings sprouting from my back."

Steve had forgotten about the wings.

"How...?"

Bucky shrugged and immediately winced. Steve was on him in half a second. "What? Are you in pain?"

Bucky nodded. "Shoulders and back hurts, feels like everything got ripped open back there. How's it look?"

Steve stood up and circled around Bucky to check his back. He very carefully lifted the wing up and gasped.

"What? How bad is it?"

Steve hesitated. "Well, it's not as bad as you think."

Bucky frowned at Steve over his shoulder. "What does that mean?"

"It means there's nothing to see?"

"What do you mean, nothing to see? There are wings sticking out of my back, there has to be something!"

Bucky sounded panicked and Steve really wasn't surprised. He wasn't sure he would have taken it any better had it happened to him.

Bucky had grown **wings**.

"There's nothing, Buck. Just your back, your shoulders and-- the wings. Your clothes are torn up, but there's no blood, no bones sticking out, no nothing."

He circled back to Bucky's front and carefully took hold of the wing. The feathers were soft, but strong, and Steve could feel the power under his fingers. But there was no resistance when he unwrapped it from Bucky's form, no matter how much Bucky complained.

"Steve, come on, it's cold! What are you doing?"

Steve didn't stop until he had the wing fully stretched out from Bucky's back, almost ten feet wide. It was nothing short of amazing.

"Does it hurt?"

Bucky rolled his eyes, while trying to pull the wing back around him with his hands. "A little, but it's mostly cold. They ripped my jacket to shreds, remember?"

But Steve was fascinated by the wings. He let Bucky take the one back and turned to the other. The far end was still flapping in the wind, but most of the wing was lying flat on the snow, unmoving. "Can you move it?"

"No. I can't do anything with them. They're broken or something."

Bucky sounded annoyed, but also a little petulant and that is what let Steve know Bucky was alright. With the initial panic over, rescue now arrived, and pain steadily fading away, Bucky was returning to his old self.

But with wings. He wasn't sure if he was ever going to get over that.

"They must do something, otherwise you probably wouldn't be alive."

Bucky opened his mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when he realized Steve was right. "So it's just me? **I** can't control them?"

Steve drew a blank. He really didn't know what to tell Bucky. He was pretty sure someone spontaneously growing wings wasn't something that happened every day, not even with SHIELD. Which brought up a question that still wasn't answered.

"How did this happen?"

Bucky didn't have an answer beyond "they just sprouted from my back when I fell."

Stark didn't have an answer beyond "I need to do some more tests."

Colonel Philips didn't have an answer beyond a shake of his head and some muttering about mutations, freaky scientists, and congress. Steve was sure he knew more than he led on.

The rest of them just stared.

Basically, they knew nothing, and it was frustrating.

Bucky was fine. Or as fine as could be after spending a day on a frozen mountain after falling from a train hundreds of feet above. Bucky didn't remember much from after the moment the wings exploded from his back, the pain causing him to black out. He had awoken in a heap in the snow, one wing covering him, the other limply laying beside him. He had fully expected to be closer to death than life, but there were no broken bones, no pools of blood, not even from the screaming pain in his back.

When Steve came, he had been trying to catch some much needed sleep after spending most of the 23 hours since he woke trying to find a way out of the snowy canyon and off the mountain. But the wings were useless, nothing more than heavy burdens weighing him down, and he had soon grown tired. He had wrapped one wing around him, good for at least some warmth, and closed his eyes in the hopes of getting a few hours of shut-eye.

That's how Steve had found him. Tired, cold, but fine. Steve still wondered how. He thought of Zola and the experiments he did on Bucky, worry firmly set in his mind. But Bucky didn't remember anything from that either. Nothing he told Steve anyway, apart from assuring him it had nothing to do with "cross-breeding humans and birds, Steve, let it go."

He did let it go, for now. Instead, he tried to keep an eye on Stark and the tests he did on Bucky. But Howard kept him at arm's length, saying he was more in the way than helping and Steve didn't get to see Bucky until Stark deemed him fit enough to go and get some sleep.

"Can he stay with me? I don't-- He doesn't like hospitals and I--"

Stark smiled knowingly. "Absolutely, Cap. Just have him back tomorrow morning, 0800 sharp."

Steve nodded gratefully and watched Howard go, already pouring over his notes and x-rays and test results.

Steve softly knocked before opening the door to the examination room a little. "Bucky? Can I come in?"

"Yeah, come on in."

Steve pushed the door open fully before freezing in his stride when he caught sight of Bucky. Bucky's back was to him, he was shirtless, and the wings were fully extended, draped over chairs and tables like a magnificent blanket of deep brown velvet. He was gorgeous.

And Steve just thought of his best friend as being gorgeous.

Shit.

"Weird, huh?"

Bucky's chuckle dragged Steve from his stunned amazement and he nervously laughed. "Yeah. Weird."

But he couldn't tear his eyes from the wings protruding from Bucky's back. They looked strong, soft, and his hands itched to touch them properly, longer than just the brief moment on that mountain side, but he knew he couldn't. **That** would be weird.

Bucky's back twitched as he turned to look at Steve over his shoulder and Steve watched the muscles in his back jump with the movement. Definitely weird, but strangely arousing too.

A hot flush immediately spread across Steve's cheeks and down his neck. What the hell was he thinking?

"Steve? Are you with me?"

Steve blinked at Bucky. "Huh? Sorry, I was-"

"Distracted, yeah, I noticed."

Bucky's grin was cheeky and Steve scoffed. "Shut up, it's just weird, okay?"

It didn't matter if he meant the wings or the fact that his pants suddenly felt a bit tighter. Both were equally shocking at the moment.

"I said I am more than ready to get out of here. I know you hate hospitals and labs, and before you say this isn't about you, I know you've been hovering nearby since we got here."

Steve snapped his mouth shut and Bucky chuckled.

"And I am sick of being poked and prodded, so let's get out of here. I'm sure the army has set up Captain America with a nice room on the base?"

Steve rolled his eyes at Bucky and took a few steps forward. "I have a room, yes, but all commanding personnel has. I'm nothing special."

Bucky's grin softened to a warm smile. "Yes you are."

Steve blushed again, he always did whenever Bucky praised him, and he rolled his eyes again. "Sap. Now come on, let's see if we can get you out of here. How do we do this?"

Bucky gestured at what Steve thought looked like a harness. "Stark made that out of some rope and buckles. It folds the wings to my back and keeps them supported. It's not much, but I can move around with them a little. I need some help getting it strapped on me though."

Steve nearly flailed at the thought of being so close to Bucky when he was sporting an erection. Not only was it inappropriate to poke your best friend with a hard-on, but Steve was pretty sure it was even more perverted to drool all over said best friend.

But he couldn't let Bucky know what was going on in his head, or his pants for that matter. So, he swallowed a few times and plastered on his most normal and unaffected expression he could.

"Okay, let's do this then."

Steve picked up the harness and turned to Bucky. There was a bit of a scuffle getting around the wings to get in front of Bucky, and Steve purposely did not think about the softness of the wing when it brushed against his arm, or the shift of muscle in Bucky's back when he moved himself out of the way to make room for Steve. No sir, he did not.

But he actually did and he couldn't help but blush as he felt himself grow even harder. Apparently America's new golden boy had a kink for wings, who knew?

He cleared his throat and held up the harness. "Ready?"

Bucky nodded. "I have to step in it first and then you hoist it up, like putting on a parachute. When you get to my waist, it's gonna take some acrobatic moves to get the wings in."

Steve pointedly ignored all the dirty thoughts his mind conjured up at that and merely bent down so Bucky could get his feet through the holes. Bucky steadied himself on Steve's shoulders as Steve slid the harness up Bucky's legs.

This was the easy part.

Steve straightened, suddenly nose to nose with Bucky. He blushed, acutely aware of the extreme lack of personal space between them.

"Hi."

Bucky smiled that same smile he always had when Steve did something embarrassing and Bucky decided to let him off the hook. "Hey Steve."

And despite every dirty little thing going through his mind, and the arousal in his pants, nothing mattered more than that small smile and his name on Bucky's lips.

Before he could control himself, Steve threw his arms around Bucky and hugged him tight against him. The air left Bucky's lungs in a loud "oompf", followed by a chuckle, but Bucky let it slide again. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Steve and hugged him back equally tight. "I know Steve, I know."

"I thought you were dead. Again. Buck-- The train, you falling. I thought--"

The words got stuck in his throat, but he didn't need to say them. Bucky knew, of course he knew. Steve hugged him in silence for a long time, assuring himself Bucky was real, he was here and real. They survived, again. The loss, the poverty, the bullies, the war, Zola, the train... They got through it and Bucky was still here, still with Steve, still alive. And whatever had caused the wings to grow from Bucky's back, and why it happened now, Steve could care less. They saved Bucky.

"Steve?"

"Yeah, Buck?"

"As much as I appreciate the show of love and affection, I am exhausted. I did plummet to my death and spent 24 hours on a frozen mountain, you know."

Steve let go of Bucky and took a step back so Bucky could see the full epic-ness of his scowl. "Jerk."

"Punk. Now come on, tie me up."

Steve didn't know he could choke on air until Bucky uttered those three words. He coughed violently, Bucky pounding on his back until he got himself under control.

"I'm good, I'm okay, thanks."

Bucky looked at him dubiously, but took his hand back and waited for Steve to get himself back together. Steve did so with a fierce blush and a quickly re-hardening dick.

Jesus, he was seriously fucked.

Well, he wasn't, yet.

"Right!" Bucky jumped a little from the volume with which Steve not very subtly cut through the awkward moment.

"Sorry. Let's just--"

Steve mentally slapped himself for being an idiot and forced himself to focus on the task at hand and not his best friend in chains, handcuffs and ropes. It was a lost cause really, but he should at least try.

It took some planning and thinking to form a plan on how to fold up the wings so they could be strapped into Stark's harness. Stark had explained it to Bucky, but Bucky had been listing with half a brain already asleep and the other freaking out over actually having wings, so he hadn't retained a lot of the explanation. But they managed a plan between them, with Steve at Bucky's back folding the wing itself and Bucky handling the harness so Steve could stuff it all inside and around.

"Okay, here goes nothing! Tell me if I am hurting you."

Steve grabbed Bucky's right wing where it protruded from his shoulder with both hands and carefully slid one down until he reached the first joint. If he thought he'd been ready for the feel of the wings in his hands after having handled them on the mountain, he had been sorely mistaken. He was in no way ready for the silky soft feeling of the feathers and the strong and solid muscle and bone under his fingertips. It almost felt sensual, definitely arousing, and extremely intimate to stroke the wing and ruffle the feathers softly.

Distantly, he knew he was supposed to look for the second joint and start folding, but he couldn't stop his fingers from caressing and petting the long feathers, letting his hands brush through them. He wanted to bend over and feel them on his face, see if they were as soft on delicate skin as they were on calloused hands, and he was about to give in when a shudder went through Bucky.

Steve immediately let go like he was burned. He took a big step backwards and looked at Bucky in alarm. "Did I hurt you? Buck, are you okay?"

When Bucky didn't answer immediately, his heart skipped a beat and he moved to duck under the outstretched wing to check up on him.

"No! No, stay there, I'm alright. I'm good. Just-- Sensitive. No pain. You didn't-- You were doing fine. Good."

Bucky was rambling, Bucky never rambled. That was Steve's thing when he got nervous talking to the girls Bucky used to try to set him up with. Bucky didn't ramble, not even when he was embarrassed. Why was Bucky rambling?

"Steve? Everything okay back there?"

"Huh? Yeah. Oh, yeah, yeah. Sorry. Distracted again. You with wings, man, it's just strange. It's like you're Superman, only you are in fact a bird and not Superman."

"Hey! You're a punk and I will kick your ass once you get me strapped in, man!"

"Whatever you say, jerk. I can just leave you like this, you know."

Nice save, Rogers.

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"Just get back to it already, I'd like to get out of here before I also grow a beak and flippers or something."

Steve stepped back and took a deep breath before putting his hands back on Bucky's wing. The feeling of the feathers under his hands was as glorious as the first time, but he forced himself to not linger and get on with it. Bucky was exhausted, the last thing he needed was Steve drooling all over him.

He located the second joint easily and grabbed it tightly. "Okay, here we go. I'll fold them in, you hand me one end of the harness over your shoulder. Ready?"

"Ready."

"One. Two. Three."

On three, Steve pushed the second joint up and towards the first joint, folding them against each other. Bucky threw a strap of the harness over his shoulder and Steve quickly slid it through the feathers and around the now folded part of the wing. It took a few loops, and getting through the thick layer of feathers was not easy, but Steve managed to hook one end of the harness in the other like Stark had shown Bucky and voila, one part was done.

"Got it!"

Steve extracted himself from the wing, his arms and hand catching in between the feathers a few times, causing Bucky to groan and his back to twitch.

Steve winced. "I'm sorry, I’m being as quick and painless as I can."

Bucky simply nodded silently, but even after Steve had let go of the wing, Bucky's back remained tense. Steve was immediately worried. "Bucky? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, keep going."

Bucky sounded strained, but not pained. It threw Steve, but Bucky insisted he go on, so he put his hands back in the heavenly feel of Bucky's wing - and he really needed to stop thinking in prose - and went in search for the point where bone gave way for feather. According to Stark, Bucky's wings were like those of a bird and birds had digits at the end of their wings. Those digits could be folded together, but after that it was all strong feather. Steve would have to fold down the digits and bind the feathers together against the part he had already strapped into the harness.

He found the digits easily, but when he tried to fold them, his hands weren't enough to get a good grip. He had to wrap an arm over and around the end of the wing so he could grab enough of the feathers and use his body to fold everything in. Unfortunately, this meant the entire front of his body was pressed up against the wing, and every feather brushed against his chest, his groin and his legs.

If he wasn't hard before, he was now.

It was both heaven and hell at the same time, pushing himself fully into the feathers to get them as close up against Bucky's body as possible so Bucky could hand him the rest of the harness to strap it all in. But Bucky wasn't paying attention.

When Bucky didn't respond to Steve calling his name from somewhere between the feathers, Steve looked up to see what he was doing, only to find Bucky standing stock still with his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth hanging open slightly. He was breathing heavily and there was a pinched expression on his face. Bucky's jaw was clenched, as were his hands, and Steve almost panicked again.

And then his eyes fell to Bucky's groin. He was hard.

Heat flushed through Steve at the realization. Bucky was turned on. The strain in his voice, the tension in his back, the pained expression on his face; Bucky wasn't hurting, he was aroused. He was hard from Steve handling his wings.

Steve froze in his place, unsure of what to do. Modesty says he should pretend not to notice and let Bucky have his dignity. Lust says Steve should give in already and show Bucky how good Steve can be. They left modesty behind when they started sharing an apartment back in Brooklyn, too close quarters to have any sense of true privacy, but Steve was not a bastard. Bucky seemed uncomfortable with his response to Steve's touches and Steve would never force himself--

"For the love of everything that's holy, Steve, quit staring and do something about it already."

Steve's heart skipped a beat at everything that could possibly imply, but he was sure Bucky didn't mean-- that. He simply meant the harness--

"I'm serious, Steve. If you don't let go of that wing right now and get your hands on my dick, I will either explode from frustration or faint from the lack of blood in the rest of my body."

Steve hadn't ever moved so fast. He dropped the wing, which exploded outwards in a flurry of brown and gold, and ducked under it to face Bucky. There was a light sheen of sweat on Bucky's skin and he was breathing a little funny. Suddenly Steve was nervous. "Are you sure?"

Bucky growled. He actually growled. "I have never been surer of anything in my life, Steve. I know you want to, you've been sporting a hard-on since you walked in, and I want you to. So stop being a punk and get to it already."

Something lifted in Steve's chest and he grinned. "Whatever you say, Sergeant Barnes."

He didn't miss the way Bucky's eyes darkened at that and filed it away for later. Steve might have a wing kink, but Bucky apparently had a dominance kink.

Without further hesitation, he dropped to his knees and quickly undid Bucky's belt. His mouth watered at the thought of wrapping his lips around Bucky's cock and swallowing him down until he couldn't see straight. Which made him wonder something he hadn't even thought of before: why wasn't he weirded out by the fact Bucky was clearly male? And why wasn't Bucky? Or was this just about the wings and the touch?

But then he got Bucky's pants down to his thighs, together with his underpants, and all thinking went out the window. Bucky's cock was thick, long, and all Steve's.

As soon as he wrapped his lips around Bucky's cock, all thoughts flew from his mind. All he could think about was Bucky; his cock in Steve's mouth and his hands in Steve's hair. Bucky moaned almost reverently, relief and pleasure at the same time. "Oh fuck yeah, Steve."

Encouraged, Steve slid his lips down Bucky's hot cock until it hit the back of his throat. Steve wanted to take all of Bucky, but he had never sucked anyone's dick before and he didn't want to ruin the mood by gagging all over Bucky's cock. So he settled for wrapping a strong hard around the base of Bucky's cock and jacking his off in time with his lips around the rest of it. He had no idea what to do, but Bucky was groaning, so he figured he was doing something right.

He curled his tongue around the head of Bucky's cock, making Bucky's hand tighten in his hair. "Yeah, that's-- do that again."

Steve had never been able to say not to Bucky. He added a little flick of his tongue under the crown on his own, and from Bucky's resulting drawn-out moan he figured that was okay too.

It was messy, spit was running down his hand and his chin, but Bucky was moaning like the girls he brought home back in Brooklyn and Steve loved it. Bucky's cock was heavy in his mouth, leaking steadily onto his tongue, and it was the best thing Steve had ever tasted. He figured he could get addicted to the taste of Bucky very quickly.

"The wing. Steve, the-- the wing. Touch-- touch it."

Bucky was breathless and Steve was a little proud of that. But he wanted to do even better and take Bucky's breath away completely. He reached a hand out blindly until he could grab a hand ful of feathers and pull the wing towards him. The feeling of the silky feathers in his hands made his own cock twitch in his pants, and he was suddenly aware of his own arousal. He had forgotten it in favor of pleasuring Bucky, but now he was throbbing with want and need.

He popped his mouth off Bucky's cock and looked up. Bucky was staring at him with wide, almost shocked eyes. His lips were bitten raw and red, his face flushed and his chest was heaving. He looked like sin personified.

"Jesus Steve."

Steve chuckled, but stayed silent in favor of grabbing a fist full of feathers and pressing them against his cock. He gasped at the pressure and Bucky echoed the sound.

"Take your pants off. Do it for real. Do it."

He fumbled with his pants, but finally got them off far enough to grab his cock tightly in a fist of silky soft feathers. The touch nearly took his breath away, it was so good. "Fuck, Buck, this feels so-- so good."

He glanced back up at Bucky, who was still staring down at him in amazement. "I bet. Do it. Come on Steve, do it. Make it feel good."

He didn't need to be told twice. Steve immediately screwed his lips back over Bucky's cock and sucked him down. He could hear Bucky gasp above him, but it was almost drowned out by the blood roaring in his ears when he fucked into his own feather-covered fist.

"Christ, Steve, you are too-- too good at this. I'm gonna--"

Steve could feel Bucky's hips stutter, the taste of him become sharper. The hand in Steve's hair tightened almost painfully before Bucky really pulled his off his cock. "I'm gonna come, you don't--"

"I want to. Please, Buck, I want to."

He knew he sounded desperate, but he didn't care. He wanted to taste him, swallow him down, drink him in. He wanted Bucky to come down his throat as he fucked into his wing. Badly.

Bucky laughed breathlessly. "How can I say no to that?"

Steve took that as consent and swallowed Bucky down with new enthusiasm. He always wanted to be good for Bucky, but right now he wanted nothing more than to make him come with just his mouth and his hand. He wanted to make it so damn good Bucky would never want anything else.

It didn't take long for Bucky to wrap a second hand in Steve's hair and keep him in place so he could fuck his mouth a few hard thrusts. Bucky came with a long, drawn-out groan and a few whispered profanities with Steve's name somewhere in the jumble of words.

Steve swallowed everything down, and it was if it went straight to his cock. The heat that had been burning in his groin since he first touched Bucky's wings, exploded in a burst of stars behind his eyelids, the roar of his blood in his ears, and the burn of not enough oxigen in his lungs. He spilled all over the feathers in his fist, fucking himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He let Bucky's cock slip from his mouth reluctantly, but he needed the air if he was going to survive.

Bucky's hands released the hold on his head and his fingers carded through his hair until he had calmed down a little. When his heart had stopped tripping over itself, he realized he was leaning against Bucky's hip, his face inches from Bucky's now soft cock and his own still wrapped in feathers. He winced when he righted himself and peeled the now sticky feathers off.

"Sorry. I uhm--"

But Bucky chuckled softly before tilting his head up so he could look him in the eye. "It's fine. It;s kind of hot actually."

Steve blushed furiously, suddenly embarrassed, but Bucky lightly shook his head to stop him. "No, no freaking out, and no being ashamed. I liked it, okay? Very much so. Okay?"

Steve nodded. "Okay. But-- Should we--?"

"Should we what?"

"Talk about this?"

Bucky laughed and lowered himself down so he was kneeling in front of Steve. They could hear things in the lab falling over and crashing to the floor where Bucky's wings knocked things over, but they chose to ignore it for now.

"I have wings growing from my back. Gay sex with my best friend whom I already loved to the moon and back? Doesn't even rank in the top ten things of crazy thing I've done today. Or ever really."

Steve smiled. Somehow Bucky always knew how to calm him down, diffuse the situation and put it in context. "It isn't?"

"Nah, man. I told you about those Russian twins, right?"

They both laughed at the memory of Bucky telling Steve that story. Steve had been mortified all the way through and Bucky kept embellishing more and more just to see him squirm.

"Right. So, no regrets?"

"No regrets. At all. Definitely. Positively."

Bucky sealed his enthusiastic declaration of lust - love? - with a deep kiss before looking down at the ruined pile of feathers in Steve's lap.

"You are cleaning that up before we fold it up though, I am not getting stuck together with your spunk."

Cleaning up feathers is harder than either of them expected. It didn't help that they kept making out. Eventually they managed to separate long enough to fold the wings into Stark's harness so Bucky could move around relatively easy. Easy enough for him to manhandle Steve onto the bed of his private room and suck him off anyway.

******

Seventy years later, amidst all the chaos and horror of SHIELD and HYDRA and Natasha and Sam, Steve nearly choked on air again when Sam handed him the file.

Project Falcon.

"They based it on some research from the second world war. I guess you know, you were part of the SSR too, right?"

Steve nodded, a bright red blush staining his face and neck. He knew about that research all right, intimately.

"Yeah, I uhm-- heard of it. Vaguely."

He pointedly ignored Natasha's look, she was too smart for her own good anyway.


End file.
